


Remember

by iliveatlast



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iliveatlast/pseuds/iliveatlast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he finds out that Lockhart's specialty is memory charms, he feels sick, even though he's not sure why. Snape tries to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When he finds out that Lockhart's specialty is memory charms, he feels sick, even though he's not sure why. He thinks about all the times he went to Lockhart's office for detention, all the times he remembers feeling sleepy and fuzzy and faint, how Lockhart sometimes touched the back of his neck and he didn't like it, he pulled away, and Lockhart laughed and Harry could only think that it wasn't funny. It's not funny. He can't remember anything (is there even something to remember?) and when he tries he just feels sick and scared and he can't remember. He can't remember.

He spends the whole summer not remembering. When Aunt Marge comes, it's almost a relief, that he can think about something else, focus on ignoring her, because it's easier to ignore her than to ignore himself. It's when she calls his mother a whore that he snaps, because he can remember, all of a sudden, someone else, some deeper voice, saying that word and he doesn't like it, he doesn't want it. He can't remember where or when, but when he leaves the house, with his trunk and his broom, his heart pounding, he vomits in the street, falling over with the force of his retching. The Knight Bus comes and he wipes his mouth and rides away. He feels dirty, covered in a sheen of sweat, his mouth tasting awful, his stomach still roiling. And he doesn't know why.

Professor Lupin is nice to him. Professor Lupin gives him chocolate and invites him to his office. He gives him extra lessons. But Lupin scares him, a little. He likes it when he leaves the door to his office open, when he lets Ron and Hermione sit in on his Dementor lessons. He's furious with himself. Professor Lupin knew his parents. Professor Lupin likes him, treats him different than any other teacher he's ever had. He shouldn't be scared of him. He shouldn't be scared of anybody, because there's no reason to be, he doesn't think, he doesn't remember any reason why. When he finds out about Lupin being a werewolf, he clings to that. Maybe he knew. Maybe he could just tell. And Lupin leaves, and Harry is never alone with him again, and he feels safer. Maybe.

He doesn't like being alone with Professor Moody, either, but he hardly ever is. Moody tries to help him-with the task, in class, when he almost gets caught by Snape. But sometimes he catches Moody watching him, in the Great Hall, or in class, his blue eye going up and down and after the Yule Ball, he tries to keep himself covered by desks and other people, but he knows Moody can see through anything, and it makes him uncomfortable. He's not scared, though-he doesn't get scared. At the end of the year again, after the graveyard, when he learns that Moody isn't Moody, then he knows it. He's not scared of people. He's just smart. He just knows that they're hiding something.

He just can't remember what...

Oddly enough, one of the people he's not afraid of is Snape. Snape is mean and ugly and cruel, Snape hates him, but that's all right, because he can remember this. He can see it. Because Snape isn't hiding anything. He lets everyone know how much he hates Harry, and in detentions he just sits at his desk marking things and lets Harry be at the other side of the room, he doesn't make Harry sit at the desk with him (he doesn't remember anyone making him do that, but Snape doesn't, at least). Harry disgusts him-he never tries to touch him, or be nice to him. Snape is sharp and biting and sneering, but he is always that way with Harry. He is predictable, and Harry likes that. He hates Snape, and that feels so much better than being scared and unsure and so he clings to it, he feeds it. Sometimes he feels safer around Snape than Professor Lupin, or even Sirius, and he hates that as much as he hates Snape. He hates himself sometimes too-how can he let himself be alone with Snape when being alone with Sirius, who loves him, who wants Harry to live with him, makes him check the exits and almost flinch when he touches him? After his hearing, all he can feel is relief, that he won't be left alone with Sirius forever in Grimmauld Place, where the doors all stick and lock and Sirius sometimes comes to his room at night and just watches him sleep. Snape watches him sometimes, but always with a scowl. He hates Harry, and Harry likes it that way. It's comfortable, like the Dursleys, to always know where you stand. To know that some things don't change.

The Occlumency lessons scare him, though. He doesn't like it, Snape rummaging through his mind, and he doesn't get scared, not around Snape, so why is he trembling every time he leaves? Snape is seeing everything, and Harry can't close his mind, because he can tell that there's something in there, something Harry can't find, but maybe Snape...but he doesn't want Snape to find it! He can't! He lets Snape see the Dursleys and Voldemort and his dreams, but he knows there's something else. He just doesn't know what...

When he sees the Pensieve, part of him thinks that maybe Snape found it. His stomach rolls and he almost retches, but he has to know. He leans in and it's not his memory at all. And he's disappointed and relieved, but then Snape is there, Snape is touching him, pulling his arm, and Harry is scared, and he runs, and he says he'll never go back. Snape was wild, Snape lost control, Snape wasn't predictable, and he didn't like that. He's glad Snape decided to stop the lessons. But his mind has been agitated, and the nights where he dreams about the corridor, he wakes up feeling scared, and he doesn't know WHY.

The next lesson they were meant to have was on a Monday. On Tuesday morning, Snape corners him in the hallway and snarls at him for missing his lesson. When he stammers out that he thought they were over, Snape smiles and says 'Tonight, Potter,' and stalks away and Harry is scared. Maybe Snape is hiding something. Maybe Snape got scary. He doesn't want to be alone with him, not alone in the dungeons with no one there to make sure, to help him if...

The first thing that Snape does is lock the door. Then, without even an introduction, Harry hears 'Legilimens!' and he is falling, falling-Snape is being too hard. His head feels like it is torn in two, like Snape is digging for something-he sees himself with Professor Lupin, touching his shoulder and Harry pulling away-Moody demonstrating the Imperius curse-Sirius hugging him, too tight, too tight-and then, suddenly, the terrain is unfamiliar, it's fuzzy and blurry like he's not wearing his glasses, and someone is touching him, somewhere, everywhere, and he can hear the word whore, like he heard it after Aunt Marge, and suddenly he is pushed against the door and the ground is underneath him and his forehead stings, stings like crazy, and he reaches up and there's sweat and blood, oh god, his scar-no. He scratched his forehead hard enough to break the skin, trying to pull Snape and the memory out.

He looks up at Snape, who looks shaken, and Snape reaches out and Harry can't stop himself, he flinches back, he stands up and tries to open the door and he pretends he doesn't want to cry.

He can't remember. He can't remember.

000 000 000

His express purpose in restarting the lessons was simple. He wanted Potter to know. He wanted Potter to suffer. He wanted to humiliate him, to pull out his dirty laundry. He wanted Potter to feel violated, as he had. He wanted all the memories that Potter had awoken, all the regret and pain and self hatred, he wanted them gone. And if bringing Potter back and teaching him a lesson was the only way to settle back into his semi comfortable piece of mind, than he would do it.

Dumbledore would be furious if he stopped the lessons, anyway.

Potter is shaking when he shows up, and Snape is glad. Potter has always been too mouthy, too defiant. If Snape can teach him to behave, just this once, if Snape can scare him straight, then he'll do it. For the good of the wizarding world, of course, and he was a part of that world, wasn't he?

He doesn't play around, this time. Before, he would just let the memories come, steering them here and there but never actively seeking. Now he is looking, looking for something deep and buried and humiliating, something to show the boy what's what, to teach him to respect other peoples privacy. He looks for some time the boy was scared, so he can laugh at it, so he can understand humility. But he's confused. These are all innocent memories. Lupin, giving the boy unjust praise. Moody, teaching a class-or Crouch, he supposes. The mangy cur welcoming him to Headquarters. He gives a push-this is not what he is looking for!-and suddenly a memory darts by, colored black and thick and sludgy, and Snape reaches out and pulls it into the open, demands it reveal it's secrets, and it tries.

It is corrupted. Snape had seen such things before, but never like this. It is twisted, the colors twirling together, black and red and gold and green, and being smashed and crushed and remolded every moment, a kaleidoscope-it is almost enough to make Severus sick. And if that didn't, the sound track, an obscene, slow, warped set of panting and groaning, would have. Severus listens, tries to decipher the noises, and hears one high pitched, saying 'No. Please.' And one lower, going 'Yes. Yes. Say it. Say it.' It is grotesque and vile and every inch of the memory is foul, making Severus pull out and stumble back, making him gag. And then he sees Potter.

The boys forehead is a ragged, bleeding mess. His nails have blood on them. His eyes are out of focus, and he has fallen against the door, pushing himself against it with his feet, and he is gasping for breath. Severus doesn't know what to do except try to help him up-a chair would be better, at least-but the boy lets out a shrill, terrified cry, pushes back against the door even harder.

He had wanted to violate Potter. He had wanted to humiliate him, tear his privacy from him, make him suffer. And he had done that, surely. He had succeeded, somehow. But this was no victory.

He sighed. Pinched the bridge of his nose. Backed away from Potter, slowly, watched the boys shoulders ease a little in their shaking. He grabs the Floo powder and calls for Poppy, who comes spinning from the fireplace a moment later, scolding Severus before taking steps forward. Potter. Always had to stir up something.

If he noticed the lack of venom in his thoughts, he dismissed it, and watched Madam Pomfrey try to put the pieces back together. He wasn't sure she'd be successful.

Maybe as successful as you, some little voice inside him says.


	2. Chapter 2

000 000 000

There's nothing wrong with him. He says it over and over again to Madame Pomfrey as he tries to get out of Snape's office, as she Floos him to the hospital wing. He says it to Hermione and Ron who come to visit, Ron with a ugly look on his face when he asks what Snape did, Hermione with a worried little crease between her eyes as she holds out his school books. He says it again to Madame Pomfrey, who doesn't listen, who puts a stinging antiseptic on his forehead and orders him not to touch it. He's sitting on his bed, not touching his forehead, running his hands nervously along the sheets, when Madam Pomfrey opens the door to return to her office and Dumbledore is standing there, in the doorway.

Harry looks at him and a feeling of relief washes over him. He hadn't realized how cold he was until that moment, how much he was shaking until he feels himself start to calm down, feels his shoulders stop shivering and the feeling come back into his legs. It's all right, now. Dumbledore is here. If there was anything wrong with him, and maybe there was, just maybe, he didn't remember anything being wrong, but maybe there was, and if there was, well, Dumbledore could fix it. No matter what happened, Dumbledore would take care of it, Dumbledore would make it all okay. Dumbledore would remember, he knew it, he would know what had happened because he knew everything, and soon this would be over, would be something he could forget and not care about, something that didn't matter. He watches the man, turns towards him and he feels a smile, one of the first real smiles he's had in ages, creep up on his face.

But Dumbledore just stands there, in the doorway, without even looking at Harry, without meeting Harry in the eye, and suddenly Harry feels his hands start to shake again, and he grabs the sheets to make them stop. It's all right, now. It's going to be all right, because Dumbledore-but he can't finish the thought. Maybe Dumbledore knew. Maybe he had found out and that was why he wouldn't even look at Harry. He was disgusted. He had to be. Harry was disgusting, he could feel it, all of a sudden, like a layer of grime worked over his skin and his hair and his eyes. He didn't remember why, but this was something he knew, deep to his core. Something he had always known, but that he had forgotten. His hands are still trembling, and he wraps his arms around his chest as he watches Madam Pomfrey step into her office, as Dumbledore steps out of the doorway and the door begins to close, and Snape is there too, and his throat goes dry. All he hears before the door closes again is 'What did you see, Severus?' Harry can't tell if he wants the door open so he can listen or if he wants it closed so he won't have to. No matter what he wants, it is closed, and he closes his eyes and drops his head and keeps his arms wrapped around his chest and tries not to think of anything.

There's nothing wrong with him.

000 000 000

"What did you see, Severus?"

The headmaster is straight to business, looking grave. No twinkle, Snape notes idly as he relates the entire sordid ordeal, his desire to humiliate Potter aside. The man's eyes are steely, and after he finishes talking, Dumbledore takes off his glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose, and sighs.

"Nothing ever goes as it should with him, does it?" he asks, his voice tinged with sadness, and Snape wonders what that means. As it should? If life had gone as it should, the boy would be long dead and the Dark Lord would still be alive. Life didn't go as it should for anyone-it just went.

Dumbledore looked at Pomfrey. "Do you have anything in your files that might pertain to this memory? Any suspicious injuries, or-"

Pomfrey looked as though she might slap the old man across the face. "If I had seen anything, I would have reported it immediately! Not only to you, but the appropriate authorities! Do you think I would take note of any suspicious injury of that nature and not report it? Really, Albus!"

He held up a hand. "Of course, Poppy. Of course. I apologize. I suppose I hoped that there would be some other way to answer this." He met Snape's eyes. "When is your next lesson with Harry?"

"You cannot be serious."

"Does the boy remember what the memory contains?"

Poppy shook her head. "From what Severus describes, it sounds like a repeat Obliviate to me. It's been documented that they lose effectiveness after multiple uses. He doesn't seem to be aware of there being anything wrong, not consciously-though he'd worked himself up into a well enough state."

"Then Severus, there's no other option. At your next lesson, you will try to find this memory again. If you can break the Obliviate, good, otherwise put it into my Pensieve and we'll work on unravelling it there."

"I will not do it. You cannot ask this of me."

"Severus-"

"I cannot stand the boy, and he cannot stand me! I am not the one to be prying into his mind for this information!"

"You are the only one capable-"

"You are just as capable, if not more so! You are more skilled than I, in Legilimency, and the boy trusts you-"

"I am not available for this, Severus. For the reasons we discussed."

"You care for the boy, don't you?"

"Of course I do. That is why I will keep my distance. It's not safe-"

"It is not safe for Potter's mental state for me to do it! The boy despised me before tonight, how do you think he feels now? He may not remember what's in that memory, but he knows, somewhere, he knows and his reaction tonight shows exactly why I am the last person that should force my way into his head again!"

"You may take it slow. Go a little at a time-gain his trust. This memory is a wild card. Who knows what it may contain? If it is something the Order must know-"

Snape scowled. "Don't bring the Order into it."

"You respect the needs of the Order more than you respect Harry."

"Which is why I am the wrong person for this job!"

"Nevertheless, you are the only person." Dumbledore's eyes met his, serious in a way that made Snape clam up and glower. "It is you, or no one, Severus."

000 000 000

Harry doesn't realize he is staring at the door to Madam Pomfrey's office until it swings open and Dumbledore, Snape, and Pomfrey exit. Pomfrey is immediately hovering over him, checking his forehead and his temperature-god knows why, he doesn't have a fever-as Dumbledore and Snape converse near her office door, then part ways. Dumbledore is heading for the hallway, and Harry feels it wash over him again, this feeling of griminess that makes him cringe (though that might also be the way Madam Pomfrey is currently poking his forehead).

"Professor Dumbledore?" he says quietly. It's the voice he used when he was younger at the Dursley's, after he'd had a nightmare or during thunderstorms, when he would call, in his softest voice, for Aunt Petunia, even though he knew she couldn't hear him all the way upstairs and that she wouldn't come even if she did. Dumbledore, however, is not upstairs. Dumbledore is just across the room, right by the door, and maybe he will hear, and if he hears, he'll turn around, he'll come-

But he either doesn't hear or doesn't care, because he reaches the door and is out in moments, leaving Harry feeling embarrassed and stupid. It's probably the embarrassment that makes him stop paying attention, which is why when Snape suddenly appears in the corner of his vision, a big black shape too close to him, he flinches.

Madam Pomfrey whips out her wand and taps it smartly in the center of his forehead. Snape isn't scowling at him, just frowning, the way he frowns in class if a Slytherin's potion isn't right, and that makes Harry nervous, a little. Snape's looking at him in the eye, and he remembers what started all this, what brought him here, and it makes him duck his head and squeeze his eyes shut. There is a stillness in the air, and then an impatient sigh.

"Potter." Harry ducks his head further, then opens his eyes. He is staring at his shoes, school shoes, with the shoelace slightly frayed where he fixed it in a hurry after it broke on the way to Defense the other day, the other with a scuff mark on the toe. He doesn't look up, even when Snape says his name again. "Potter!"

"What?" Harry says, and it doesn't come out right, he means for it to come out rude and disrespectful and brave, he wants it to make Snape narrow his eyes and start acting normal again. But it sounds softer than he wants, not rude at all, and for once all he wants is for Snape to call him arrogant and give him a detention-

No. No, not a detention. But points, yes, he wants Snape to take points, he wants Snape to sneer and say he's just like his father, or to make him scrub the Trophy Room floor to ceiling with Filch. Anything but this weird, so neutral that it's almost kind, frightening voice.

Snape doesn't do any of those things. "You're to stay in the Hospital Wing tonight. Madam Pomfrey will release you for classes in the morning, if she deems you fit. At our usual time, we will meet in my office-"

This makes his head snap up so fast it hurts, makes him almost meet Snape's eyes before he remembers and looks away, focuses on Snape's forehead. "What?"

Snape's forehead creases with familiar irritation, but his tone stays the same. "Don't interrupt, Potter. At the usual time, you will report to my office with your mind clear and ready to work, is that understood?"

Alone. Alone in Snape's office, the way he has been a million times, but Snape wasn't acting right and maybe there was something wrong, but he couldn't remember what, so did it matter? It didn't, it didn't, but he still didn't feel right, so maybe it did, but-Snape. Alone in Snape's office. And he could do-

No. No, he's brave. He's in Gryffindor and he's brave and he's smart, and no one can hurt him, they can't, hasn't he proved it a million times before? He's brave. He just has to be brave.

He just hopes he can remember how.

000 000 000


End file.
